


Carousel

by Aithilin



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Fluff, M/M, Moogle Chocobo Carnival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 03:03:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14886419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: Every year the treaties that protect the peace of Eos are negotiated in Altissia; Ignis remembers the first time he had visited the shining city.





	Carousel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JazzRaft](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzRaft/gifts).



The lights of Altissia had always struck him as softer— the glow of candles across calm waters, rather than Insomnia’s harsh neon glare. The delicate lights of the romantic city had seemed unnerving when Ignis first saw them, woken from his sleep on the royal vessel as a child, to watch the approach beneath the grand arches. The statues that lined the canal, the Tidemother’s crest, the dynamic casting of light and shadow sent across carved, weather worn stone— everything had seemed so much stranger on their first approach. 

He hadn’t even been meant to come on the little trip back then. But Noctis needed a companion on the journey, and what was one more child in the mix of diplomats and stately gatherings. They would be under Cor’s care, and one of the Kingsglaives. They would be excused from the meeting rooms and imposing studies, shown off for dinners and gatherings. 

Noctis had been to Altissia before this. He had been kept in his father’s shadow, a little prince trailing after a king and his knights through the grandiose estates. Last year, and the year before, Ignis had heard all about the polished wood floors of the studies Noctis had been left in with his guard; the toy cars and blocks he had been given to amuse himself with beneath the ornate windows and the stone gaze of the Tidemother. He had told Ignis about the forts made of stacked books in the corners, and the reaction of Insomnia in the blocks, of the little balls knocked from the table and the sight of the soft lights across the city below. He had told Ignis about the strange dark water at night, and the grey churning waves when it rained, the cerulean calm of the sunny days he could see from the windows of his stately cage. 

Ignis had been eager to come this year. To the peace talks. The ongoing treaties worked out on more-or-less neutral grounds between kingdoms and states and empires. 

He had wanted to see the lights. 

“Can we?”

There was a festival in town. 

A ten year-old prince and his twelve year-old companion could not be expected to stay indoors when there was a festival going on. 

Not when the confetti seemed to pour from the sky, to gather against the walls of the canal. Or when they could see the brightly feathered birds running courses across the bay from the tall windows of their rooms. The music— cheerful, chipper, whimsical— blared from the speakers mounted across the city, competing with the bands and musicians and magicians settled around at key plazas and thoroughfares. Even the gondolas had been dressed up in streamers and with plushies as they worked their rounds for the tourists. 

But it was at night that Ignis wanted to see the most. 

Cor took them out for dinner at a little cafe. The Marshal and their Glaive a comforting wall between them and the press of people in attendance. The Glaive had smiled, Ignis remembered that; he had smiled and chatted with them over themed desserts and drinks, plucking the cherry Noctis didn’t want from the ‘moogle milkshake’ and smiling as the prince laughed for him. 

Ignis remembered the way the lights flooded the streets and plazas with their colours and shapes. He remembered the way he could still see the stars beyond the lights of the city on the water, faint and distant until they were near the edges of the largest plazas, looking over the dark, calm waters. He remembered the sweetness of the desserts and the way Noctis smiled, eyes alight with all the strange sights of warm, living light dancing across colourful feathers. 

“Can we? Please?”

There were stalls lining the thoroughfares by the docks, where they could still see the royal vessel safely moored away from where the brave and boastful few were running courses with their rented birds. There were stations and smaller courses, a perfect fit for a young prince and his companion— to be lifted to carefully pet sharp beaks and hug soft necks. 

But it was a plaza off to the edge of the city, near where the apartments piled atop one another that they had spent the most time. The lights here were strung across the edge of the waters, colourful bulbs suspended by a line rather than the bright warmth of the rest of the city. The music was muted, softer from the speakers that had been mounted over cafe awnings and beneath vacant windows. But there were still vendors and stalls— selling ice cream and gelato, treats on skewers and in bags, all themed for the occasion. 

Ignis recalled the carousel the best. 

It looked like a fixture of the city— old and stone and metal, a thing of light and music with a slow turn while beasts and creatures rose and fall with the timing of the waves. The top of it was lined with paintings, familiar scenes of myth and legend— the Astrals in all their forms. No two repeated, glittering in a story as the machine turned beneath the night sky, the beasts beneath them rising and falling on their metal pillars. Ignis could see the daemons laced between the creatures; the flan spread out to cupped seats, glowing eyes a grin as statues of goblins and imps kept the riders company, the spread of a gargoyle’s wings nearly brushed the King Behemoth and Jabberwock to either side, toothy grins of Cerberus and Quetzalcoatl matched by balancing decorations of bombs and cryonades. The more common creatures— the spiracorns, the dualhorns, the knightly chocobos and their shining armours— were all brighter, safer, more appealing to the children nervous beneath the frozen eyes of daemons and deadly beasts. 

At the nod from Cor, they had rushed to join the line for the next round. Mirrors in the centre pillar reflected the light outward, and Ignis saw himself in the mad scramble to claim his steed. The golden chocobo with it’s inscribed helmet, shining in the night. He watched as the Glaive lifted Noctis to his own chosen mount for the ride— the carbuncle carved to appear fluffy beneath the warm light, fairy lights curled around the glowing ruby horn and outstretched paws. 

“Come on, buddy, you know you want to!”

They had arrived in Altissia as members of a diplomatic mission. They were an emissary of the King, sent to negotiate the ever-changing treaty for another year, to defend the royal autonomy of Lucis, and the borders of its allies. They had been sent— with the utmost good faith— to represent the Citadel in the international dealings of Eos. They were there as diplomats. 

Not children taken to flights of fancy. 

But Noctis had positively beamed when he saw the festival lights and the crowd gathered along the docks. 

Ignis had hesitated to even let them roam the streets to explore. They needed to be at their best in the morning. 

But Prompto could be convincing when he wanted to be, and Gladiolus had simply nudged him and offered a pointed look towards Noctis. Smiling, enthralled Noctis, practically leaning over the barrier of their room’s balcony with Prompto, trying to see it all from their distance. From their seclusion up in the estates of the First Secretary. 

“Yes, fine.”

He didn’t know why they had asked his permission. Or why he had hesitated to give it. He didn’t know why the festival and its lights— the dark waters beyond— filled him with unease out here with his friends. All were perfectly capable of handling any trouble that might arise from Noctis out in Eos on his own; all were trained Shields and Crownsguard, and Noctis practically a living weapon when the circumstances called for it. But there were others there, in the city. More experienced diplomats would watch Noctis for weakness in his position, they would exploit his inexperience in the negotiations, they would try to press advantages that Regis would never allow, simply because Noctis was too new to the game they were playing. 

Running through a festival like children would not help their position. 

But Noctis smiled and took his hand as he made a run for the door. 

There was dinner out in the more prominent plaza, where the statue of an Astral twisted from a fountain. Sweet wines and savoury, themed meals for the occasion were shared and stolen between them, with Noctis picking meats off plates while Prompto ran distractions. There were desserts and treats as they walked, games of strength that left Gladio carrying his prizes— “Iris is gonna love these” said even as Noctis claimed a small carbuncle plush for himself from the pile— and skill that had them all with at least one prize or another. They found an arcade in an alley, machines lined the walls as attendants managed the gathering of children rushing from machine to magic. Prompto gave the tickets he won away to the nearest kids with a sheepish grin and a shrug. 

And then there was the carousel. 

“Do you think it’s the same one?” Noctis asked when they found it, the structure in a slow turn that was nothing like the whirlwind Ignis remembered. 

Its paints had faded— the victim of the salt air, and its colours dimmed. The steeds and mounts seemed less grand now, beneath the warm light. But Ignis smiled at the familiar golden chocobo knight, and the glowing turquoise carbuncle side by side. “I believe it is.”

He offered a hand to Noctis when the ride slowed and the waiting crowd dispersed, fewer people drawn in by the glowing structure and soft music nowadays. “Shall we?”

Gladio and Prompto rushed for the seats, piled their prized across the daemon horde they shared the small enclosure with. Prompto snapped pictures before they were even settled. 

“Just like old times, but without Nyx standing guard,” Noctis grinned as he climbed onto the familiar carbuncle, his little plush prize settled on the statue’s head. “I remember this being a lot bigger.”

“You were just smaller,” Ignis settled awkwardly onto his old steed, the shining gallantry of its paint chipping beneath the years, but still every bit a noble creature as he remembered. Even if still strange to no longer fit as well as he remembered. The distance between them seemed much smaller now— less the great leaps of their shared memory. 

Noctis reached out for his hand and smiled with a kiss pressed against his knuckles; “Still my knight?”

“Of course,” Ignis refused to acknowledge his own blush. Even as he returned the gesture. As he stretched across the short distance between them, steadied by the poles that held their creatures in place, and kissed Noctis. “Always.”

In the morning, they would be making their debut before the other diplomats of Eos and expected to defend their home across meeting tables and in conference rooms. They would spend the days— the sun glaring off the waters of the canals— shut away together as Noctis read through contracts and agreements, amending what would unbalance the treaties and defending the interests of the Lucian people. There would be carefully chosen words and bright lights and sunlight streaming through the larch, arching windows of the grand estates where they would be sequestered. Reports would be written and filed all under the harsh light of the day, where even the Nifs could not slip their shadows into the rooms if they were careful. 

But tonight was soft and glowing, the peace of the warm lights a far cry from the glare of their home city. Ignis could see why Altissia was considered such a romantic city like this, settled at Noctis’ side as the crisp salt air and cool breeze did little to ease the dizzying warmth that had settled in his chest.


End file.
